| ABOMINATION ~ ALCOHOL ~ ASSKISSER ~ BACKSTABBER ~ CAN PUNK ROCK PAY THE BILLS? ~ GOTTA GET AWAY ~ HOME SWEET HOMICIDE ~ IT JUST SEEMS WRONG TO ME ~ I'VE BEEN WAITING ~ PUNKTOWN ~ SEDITIONARY ~ WAITING ROOM |
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(Music and Lyrics: James Harding) ©2004
Smoke and fire… It’s outta control. Everybody’s killing… It’s taking its toll. Blowing up commuter trains, sad fanatics crashing planes. Terrorism, it remains…
It’s a bomb, a bomber nation. A bomber bomber nation. A bomb abomination, bombing, bombing, bombing you and me.
A government falls, troops collide. An idiot with balls… Suicide. Crazy mothers take the bus, killing kids without a fuss. Are they really just like us?
It’s a bomb, a bomber nation. A bomber bomber nation. A bomb abomination, bombing, bombing, bombing you and me.
Jihad’s a Holy War they say. But how can war be Holy?
(Music and Lyrics: James Harding) ©2006
The pictures a cliché, it’s always the same with the long haired rocker, a smoker, a bottle and the fame, the fortune… it’s part of the look. It’s the rock ‘n’ roll image, it says so in the book. So how come they never seem to target the booze when they typify the rock ‘n’ roll life in the news? They never seem to rest on the alcohol, just the sex and the drugs and the rock and roll.
I guess it’s easy to lose control with the sex and the drugs and the rock ‘n’ roll. It took a piece right out of my soul when I lost a good friend to alcohol…
Socially acceptable. It gets you drunk, it says so on the label. It’s O.K. to have a drink every day or on occasion, as long as you’ve got a handle on it drink in moderation. You see it all the time with a star in the headline… Bonham, Moon, their final beat a flatline. But they never give a nod to the alcohol, just the sex, the drugs and the rock and roll.
I guess it’s easy to lose control with the sex and the drugs and the rock ‘n’ roll. It took a piece right out of my soul when I lost a good friend to alcohol…
I’m no preacher, I’m certainly not a teacher and I’ve got no message with which I’m trying to reach you. It’s simply that I’m interested to find out why they dance around liquor when they paraphrase the rock ‘n’ roll life or when there’s death or another tragic ending where drink gets in the way and you find yourself pretending that it’s all O.K. But it ain’t… your life is dying; You carry on denying and leave everybody crying.
I guess it’s easy to lose control with the sex and the drugs and the rock ‘n’ roll. It took a piece right out of my soul when I lost a good friend to alcohol… It cut right into my soul when I lost a good friend, when I lost a good friend… to alcohol.
(Music: Andy Andersson; Lyrics: James Harding and Andy Andersson) ©2006
You wanna be my lover, come in as a partner, owner, own me, try to work me over, break me in, break me down, take me down and out while you run with everything.
All I ever wanted was someone to make me happy.
You wanna be my lover, treat me like a mother, brother sister, cuddle me. You’re nothing but a double dose of trouble, hassle, legal when you get your hooks right into me.
All I ever wanted was someone to make me happy.
You wanna be my lover? Take a look around you, will you, no-one gives a shit if you’re in fashion, proportion, what you really think about abortion or where you stand in society.
All I ever wanted was someone to make me happy.
(Music and Lyrics: James Harding) ©2005
You smiled at my face then you stabbed my back. You have no idea what that did to me. You took me by surprise I’d no defence. Crazy! Crazy!
You’re a backstabber.
You took my help and then you threw me away. You have no idea what that did to you. The classic Romans built a bridge that day… But you killed them too!
You’re a backstabber.
And so our lives go on and on (and on). Watch out for wolves in cheap clothing. It seems this world was full of nutters all along… Watch out, watch out!
You’re a backstabber.
Can Punk Rock Pay The Bills? (I Don’t Think So!) (Music: James Harding; Lyrics: James Harding, Kayce Harding, Tani Armstrong, Lara Griffin) ©2003
Out all night, sleep all day, wife’s on my backs ‘cos there’s bills to pay. Says I gotta get a job. Says I’m just a lazy slob.
Won’t be a corporate slave, be punk rock to my grave. Don’t you tell me how I should behave.
Can punk rock pay the bills? Can punk rock pay the bills? Can punk rock pay the bills? I don’t think so!
Punk rock is my only vice, I make my living selling merchandise. Waiting for that sold out gig. Just one more show and we’ll make it big!
Won’t be a corporate slave, be punk rock to my grave. Don’t you tell me how I should behave.
Can punk rock pay the bills? Can punk rock pay the bills? Can punk rock pay the bills? I don’t think so!
And I don’t care what any of you are thinking right now!
(Music: Andy Andersson; Lyrics: James Harding and Andy Andersson) ©2006
For the first twenty years they hold you as a slave as they groom you, mould you ready for a life in the rat race.
There’s more to your life than a single track. It’s time t wake up, break out. Don’t look back.
I’ve gotta get away Gotta run away ‘Cos I ain’t going down, I ain’t going down again.
Screw this life ‘cos you know where you’d rather be. You gotta change it, control it and run from the misery.
There’s no more telling you what you gotta do. You’ve got to step up, stand up, now they’ve gotta listen to you!
(Music: James Harding; Lyrics: Chris Jelley) ©2006
Papa’s got a brand new hag and momma gets to be so sad. He beats her with a branding iron, I grabbed my little brother Ryan…
I’m gonna run away. I’ve got to run away from home sweet homicide.
She lay on the carpet and stained it. When the cops came they couldn’t explain it. Ryan ran into the woods to hide and me, I just cried and cried.
I’m gonna run away. I’ve got to run away from home sweet homicide.
In the emergency room momma died. On the stand Papa lied and lied. He got life plus twenty inside but something in me also died.
We ain’t going home. No, we ain’t going home to home sweet homicide.
(Music and Lyrics: James Harding) ©2006
We don’t have a system in place to support the elderly and we don’t have a way to process poo so it’s safe to swim in the sea… But we can land on Mars!
It just seems wrong to me.
We’re pumping gas and we’re screwing up the ozone layer. We cannot find a way to function cleanly… Yet we build more bombs.
It just seems wrong to me.
So what are you doing DC? (Rant)
We cannot seem to find a way to feed our poor. We’re clearly falling short on education… And we lead the world?
It just seems wrong to me. It just seems wrong to me.
So what’s the scoop DC? (Rave)
(Music: Andy Andersson; Lyrics: James Harding and Andy Andersson) ©2006
I’ve been waiting, waiting for so long for this perfect opportunity to finally come along
When It got here, I guess I read you wrong. Once we had it, then you blew it and all we heard was a sad, sad song.
Whoa… whoa… How can we go on? Whoa… whoa… Whoa… whoa… How can we go on? How can we go on?
We had a good thing going everybody said but it wasn’t what you wanted so you put it all to bed. So much promise hanging by a thread then you cut it down, you killed it and now it’s finally dead.
Whoa… whoa… How can we go on? Whoa… whoa… Whoa… whoa… How can we go on? How can we go on?
Whoa… whoa… How can we go on? Whoa… whoa… Whoa… whoa… How can we go on? Now we’re moving on.
(Music: James Harding; Lyrics: Chris Jelley) ©2006
Sitting on your throne of trash, wanting love and needing cash. Scoring street life’s super stash, you wanna hear the music thrash.
Born a king without a crown, you grew up in Punktown. You grew up in Punktown, Punktown USA.
Three chords pounding in your head, back-alley angel in your bed. Flash out, burn out, almost dead. A punk life A to Z.
Born a king without a crown, you grew up in Punktown. You grew up in Punktown, Punktown USA.
No cop’s gonna shut you down ‘cos you’re the one that built Punktown!
Sitting on your throne of trash, wanting love and needing cash. Scoring street life’s super stash, you wanna hear the music thrash.
Born a king without a crown, you grew up in Punktown. You grew up in Punktown, Punktown USA.
(Music: Andy Andersson; Lyrics: James Harding) ©2006
Your rules are made for fools, they’re there for breaking. You stash the treasure for yourself, it’s for the taking.
I know what I want so I’ll get what I want… I’m a seditionary.
Toe the line? In my own time, I’ll do it my way. I never listened to a word you say.
I got my own agenda and it’s new each day. I’ll never be a party to this world’s decay.
I know what I want so I’ll get what I want… I’m a seditionary.
What makes you think I want to be like you?
What makes you think
that I want your pain? I never liked what you do.
(Music and Lyrics: James Harding) ©1981
Sitting in a waiting room reminiscent of a tomb. People waiting outside ‘cos they’ve seen what it’s like inside. Will they ever try to see what people’s minds are like who write.
Graffiti on the walls by rebels without a cause. All the writing’s inside by the kind that try to hide. Will we ever try to see what people’s lives are like who write.
Who are those who write and scrawl in every vacant space on wall. They are young and old alike they’re young and old alike. It’s their final try to get their views across to you and I.
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